


What's Worth It

by mostmagicalf_kingunicorn41_43110



Category: TharnType the Series (TV), เกลียดนักมาเป็นที่รักกันซะดีๆ | TharnType: The Series (TV) RPF
Genre: Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot, Short & Sweet, Small fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:40:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24395173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostmagicalf_kingunicorn41_43110/pseuds/mostmagicalf_kingunicorn41_43110
Summary: It's been days. Type checked his phone. Okay, hours. The asshole still wasn't talking to him. Fucking hell, it wasn't even his fault. And at least he's been trying to make it right. If only his stupid boyfriend would get the hell out of his head and fucking listen to him. Sometimes Type swore Tharn was more stubborn than he was.Type crossed his arms on the couch after turning up the volume of the game. Drowning out the edges of worry creeping in his thoughts. Tharn hasn't been home all day, and wasn't talking to him. Fuck. He was probably fine. Type knew where he likely was.Type checked his phone again, the last message Tharn had sent him had been around six that evening, something about being home late. Yeah, 'late' was one way to put it. Late would have been nine, or ten thirty. Late would have been eleven. As Type glared at the clock on his screen what read back to him was more than 'late' it was fucking one in the goddamn morning.Ah, fuck it.Type stood from the couch roughly, getting ready to leave. Cursing Tharn under his breath as he did. He was on the hunt now, and God help Tharn if Type found him, but God help them all if he didn't.
Relationships: Tharn Thara Kirigun/Type Thiwat Phawattakun
Comments: 18
Kudos: 382





	What's Worth It

**Author's Note:**

> Still alive! Hello. :) Just finishing some things up, have a few stories prepared for you, including this one. Hope you enjoy it, it feels so good to post again haha! Good to be back.
> 
> Anyway, get comfy, and have fun. <3

  
The thumping of his own beat gave a surge through his heart. Memories flowing in, flooding his thoughts as sore hands and fingers finally started to go numb. Just the edges, the pain still burned through. He pushed through it. Went harder, louder, further.

The sweat stuck the shirt to his back and his hair to his forehead and neck. His teeth were clenched in concentration as he played. As he tried not to remember,

_ Tharn snapped out of his immersive state in an instant. A look to his hands, a look to Tum, who couldn’t turn around. He still played. Had they noticed? Tharn looked up at Tae, who's eyes snapped ahead as soon as he turned. Then to Song, the junior who was also already looking back at him, he turned away. They had noticed. Shit. _

Over and over and over. The same beat, drumming straight through the hook, he had to get it perfect, absolutely perfect. No matter how many times he's gone through it, he's thus far, never been satisfied.

If he gets it wrong, he sharply cusses in frustration and starts again. If he gets it right, his mind goes back to that night wondering what might've been.

_He looked back at his hands. They carried the heart of the song, the beat. He kept playing. The members helped him get back on track. He shook his head and moved on._

Shit!

Back to reality, he cursed his mind that was following the memories. He desperately concentrated on the drums in front of him.

He's been here for hours. Practice was over ages ago. He'd sent a small text to Type beforehand that he'd be home late. He didn't even know what time it was anymore. He just knew it's been awhile since he watched the sun set.

Tharn closed his eyes and got lost in the music. Fingers aching for relief. For a break. But he couldn't give in. He had to get this right.

He went through that part. That hook. Again and again, getting it perfectly every time. If only he'd done it right that night.

He still remembered the look Tum gave him when the song was over. Like everything was okay. It wasn't a big deal. Which only proved the fact that it was. He remembered Tae and Song patting his back in silent support as they walked off the stage. He remembered the feeling in the pit of his stomach as he walked over to the table where Type, Techno, and Champ were waiting. The complete shame that overtook him the closer he moved to Type.

Tharn growled and played even harder, willing the bad memories away. The way he couldn't even look at Type as he stood next to him. The way Type felt the need to reassure him when they'd made it home. In his own way.

_"Oy." Type whined as Tharn set his stuff down on the couch, still clearly upset. "Quit sulking. It's really not such a big deal."_

_Tharn said nothing, going to his bed stand and setting his phone up to charge in silence. He's barely said two words to Type the whole night. Too ashamed of his mistake to speak._

_He's played perfectly when they've practiced that song a million times. But tonight, live, he fucks it up? In front his friends, everyone, and Type? Of course._

_It wasn't even a hard piece. It was a little advanced, but nothing he couldn't handle. He was better than this. Tharn set his phone down more forcefully than he'd intended._

_"Tharn," Type sighed, he was standing right behind him. "Really, it's not something to get this upset over. I didn't even know you messed up till you told me. I'm sure no one else noticed but you."_

_"Tum noticed. And Tae." Tharn said heavily. "They all did."_

_"Yeah, well they're your band mates, and musicians." Type argued. "They're trained to know this stuff more than anyone else in the room. And didn't you hear everyone when you guys came up? They loved you as always. You were still turning down drinks the whole night, don't think I didn't notice."_

_Tharn shook his head and sighed. "I'm taking a shower."_

_He moved to their bathroom, not acknowledging Type's attempts to make him feel better. It wouldn't work. The truth is, he fucked up. No amount of talking was gonna change that. He needed to deal with it and move on._

But he couldn't deal with it. Or move on.

He was here, playing the same hook of the same song till his hands bled because he couldn't get over it.

Why, why, why did he fuck up? It was a piece he knew well. He shouldn't have made such a slip up. Fuck.

Tharn pinched his brows together as he got lost in the beat, eyes still closed. His hands going faster and harder. He ignored the pain and just played.

Just as he completed the most difficult section of the hook, snap!

Tharn groaned as he heard the pieces of his drum sticks fall to the floor, running into his legs on the way down.

There went another pair.

Tharn sighed heavily and looked down at his palms. Ruddied and sore, the pain sung under his skin.

It wasn't enough.

He needed more time. More reps. He wouldn't stop until he got it right at least fifteen times in a row. Fifteen was a good number. If he could complete fifteen perfect reps, he'd be done. He'd go home.

Speaking of home, Tharn blinked through the sweat that clung to his eyelashes and wiped his face with his prepared rag, while he checked the time.

"So it is working."

A familiar voice had Tharn's head snapping up.

"Type." Tharn was still breathing heavily.

For a few good seconds neither of them did anything.

"Good to know you're not dead." Type had his arms crossed. "Thanks for the heads up by the way. You know, the one you sent me almost eight fucking hours ago."

Tharn sighed and finished toweling off. "Type please--"

"Did you even know how late it was before right now, when you finally checked your damn phone?" Type asked.

Tharn was already over his boyfriend's attitude. He knew Type had a right to be angry. Tharn probably worried him like hell, but he was in a shit mood, and honestly? He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to care that he was wrong.

"No." Tharn answered truthfully, knowing it wouldn't help.

It was a little past one a.m.

"When were you planning on coming home?" Type asked. "Till you broke your arms?"

Tharn didn't answer. He just looked over at Type with a set frown. He really wasn't in the mood for this. Not now. And he wasn't gonna indulge Type.

Type sighed and picked up five pieces of a pair of drumsticks that Tharn had broken a few hours ago.

He moved over to the practice room couch and dumped the pieces, going and collecting the other four of the first pair Tharn had broken.

When he was done, Type glared up at him. "Come on, we're leaving, Tharn."

Tharn again, didn't say anything. He just shook his head and picked up the last broken pair of drumsticks.

"I can't leave yet." Tharn argued. "It's not right."

"Fucks sake," Type sighed and took a step back, before suddenly snapping, "It was _one_ mistake! A small mistake that only you are hung up on! Tharn, enough already."

Tharn looked at him through his sweat soak bangs.

"Now come on," Type straightened out, moving to grab Tharn's stuff that was leaning against the wall, "you're done for tonight. Practice was over fucking hours ago anyway. Take me home."

Tharn watched as Type put the pieces of the drumsticks into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and walking out.

He shifted in his seat, fingers twitching. He looked down at his hands.

Type looked over his shoulder when he heard no movements coming from Tharn.

"Shia Tharn." He rolled his eyes. Patience wearing thin. "I said let's go. Take me home, there's food waiting for you."

"You go on first." Tharn looked back up at Type. "I'm staying."

"Son of a--" Type took a sharp breath, fingers flexing as he gripped the strap of Tharn's bag. He had half a mind to throw it across the fucking room. "You're acting like a fucking child, you know that? I didn't spend the better part of tonight trying to track you down only for you to sit on your ass feeling sorry for yourself." He growled. "I came here to get you. So you're coming with me, _now_ Tharn."

"And," Tharn looked Type up and down and swallowed, "if I don't?"

Type fully turned and blinked back at Tharn, not believing what he was hearing.

"What will you do?" Tharn asked. "If I don't get up and leave with you right now?"

"Shut the fuck up." Type pointed an accused finger at him. "I'm not here to play your games. It's late, I'm tired, pissed, and fucking done arguing with you." He pointed behind him towards the door. "The second I walk out this door, you have thirty seconds to get the fuck outside, or you'll regret it Thara Kirigun."

Tharn nodded once. "Okay."

This only seemed to intensify the rage broiling under his boyfriends skin. Type seized up for a moment, all the muscles in his body tensing. He looked ready to explode, and Tharn was prepared for the onslaught that awaited him. He knew he deserved it, he was being shitty to Type. Who had done nothing wrong, and didn't deserve it.

But then Type let out a long breath. He shook his head and looked at his shoes.

"Sensitive, good for nothing--" He grumbled lowly. Then Type's gorgeous, burning eyes leveled him with a hard glare. "One goddamn mistake doesn't make you or your music a failure. However, ignoring and treating your boyfriend like shit because of it, does make you an asshole."

Then he stormed out.

Leaving Tharn feeling even worse than he had been before.

He sat still for a moment, stewing in the guilt and shame.

"Fuck!" He threw the broken pieces of his drumsticks across the room. Covering his face in his hands as he listened to the sound of them clattering against the floor.

Tharn took two deep breaths before he stood from the seat for the first time in hours, muscles aching as he did so, and ran out as fast as he could chasing after Type.

What was this mistake anyway? Compared to his relationship, no, this fight, with Type? Nothing. What was he throwing away to hold onto? Was it really worth it? Had the hours and days his thoughts tortured him with his mistake even done anything besides make him feel like shit and make Type feel the secondhand treatment of a less than worthy Tharn? What the fuck was he doing?

Tharn burst through the doors, surprised to find Type genuinely waiting for him on the other side. He didn't stop running.

"It's about fucking ti--"

Type was cut off with Tharn crashing into him. He hugged and held him tight, regret pouring off of him in waves.

"You're right, you're right." Tharn admitted. "I'm sorry."

For a heated moment Type didn't move. He stopped breathing, didn't speak, didn't react. And just as Tharn was about to let go and spill more apologies out of his mouth, Type sighed deeply. "Fucking finally." He returned the hug. "Piece of shit Tharn." His hands came up to Tharn's hair. "Why do I put up with you? Tell me this."

Tharn chuckled helplessly. "Because you love me."

Type hit him softly. "Says who? Stop making things up."

Tharn only smiled and buried his face against Type's shoulder. Grateful that his stingy boyfriend still hadn't forced him off despite the fact that they were in public. It might have helped that it was the dead of night and no one else was around, but Tharn appreciated it anyway.

"I just-- I don't make mistakes like that." Tharn started. "Such a simple little thing. Made me feel like I wasn't good enough anymore. I couldn't let myself go until I got it perfect. But now I realize I was never going to be satisfied."

"Stupid boy." Type chastised, but his hands were still petting him and his voice was soft. "Who should you listen to more? Your perfect boyfriend, or the voice in your head telling you shit you know isn't true?"

"I think…" Tharn smiled as he looked back at Type, "I should listen to my wife the most."

Type nodded with a mirrored smile he was trying to hide. "Exactly. Get the hell out of your own head and listen," Type smacked the back of Tharn's head lightly, "to me more."

"Oy!" Tharn whined, rubbing the imaginary sore spot.

"There you go." Type nodded. "Now that I have my boyfriend back," despite wanting to pout at the smack Type gave him, Tharn couldn't help the smile that spread at those words, "do you think it was worth it?"

Tharn resolutely shook his head. "No." He said. And the relief Tharn now felt was rooted behind the fact that he really believed it. It wasn't worth it. But something was. "You're worth it."

"You're damn right." Type agreed. "Now take me home."

Tharn nodded, leaning in slowly with pleading eyes.

Type froze. He knew what Tharn was asking for, he panicked and looked around them, there was no one. Maybe he could indulge Tharn just this once.

Type looked pensively back at Tharn through his lashes, not stopping the man as his lips pressed softly against Type's in a small kiss.

Type's eyes slipped close and he recuperated the gentle touch with his own. Opening up a little more each time as Tharn brought their lips together again, and again.

The kiss was slow and sweet, the best part was it was long enough to melt whatever pretenses Type was trying to hold up.

Tharn knew this as soon as he leaned away looking into soft eyes, open for him to smile at, and sweet talk, with little to no resistance.

"Come on." Tharn said softly, leaning his forehead against Type's temple closing his eyes. "Let's go home."

"Just for the record," Type momentarily stopped Tharn from delivering on that promise. "Worrying about you all this time, trying to talk you out of it, facing your stubbornness, looking for you, fighting with you, everything I had to do to bring you back to me." Type nodded softly, his eyes were closed as he spoke. "That was worth it, too."

Then before Tharn could, because Type knew the sap would, Type leaned in and kissed his stupid boyfriend himself. He could feel it as Tharn smiled against his lips, happily kissing him back. And maybe he was smiling too. Because it was worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, see you in the next one lovelies!


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